#7 Get Up, Get Out
I finished up a journal this morning. Such a great feeling — filling up the pages of a blank book, what an accomplishment! And I get to start a fresh new journal tomorrow! This speaks directly to my inner 4th grader. Today, as then, I love "school supplies" almost as much as I love ice cream. Almost.
Just for fun, I turned to the first entry in the journal — what was August 2018 Colleen writing about?
Full of anxiety over solo show performance. under-prepared, like everything i thought I knew is suddenly backwards and smells faintly of desperation. Regret. Feedback was good, but I need to do better. Also, should I sell the chair in my living room? Or just throw a blanket over it?
Yikes. So emo. I flip to a few days later.
Woke up panicking. Then read a FaceBook post in the storytelling group about (insert super hack-y technique thing that I do in some of my stories) and how lame it is and how it’s lazy, and how any person who isn’t a total garbage monster or suffering from a traumatic brain injury should know that it’s just dumb. And don’t ever do it again, dummy. I’m paraphrasing, obviously, but now I can’t breathe. [Current Colleen note to self: The solution to waking in a panic is definitely not “read FaceBook posts.” End note.]
And a few pages later —
"Abandon all hope of fruition.” — Pema Chodron. When I first read this I had a moment of hopelessness. But it means to focus on the present vs worrying about the future result. Today matters. Do your best today. And then do it again tomorrow.
Wow. Poor August 2018 Colleen! At least she was reading Pema Chodron, which is always a good idea. Thank god I don’t have that kind of anxiety anymore!
Oh, wait.
[Flips to February 18, 2019.]
I’m behind on the blog. I’m behind on The Artist’s Way. I’m behind on Sati365 videos/reading. I’m behind on laundry. I’m behind on everything. How did this happen???
I have anxiety. A lot. Over lots of things.
Anne Lamott calls this insidious voice in my head “Radio KFKD” or “K-Fucked.”
Sometimes I know how to work through it. In the entry on the 18th, I go on to make a list of things that aren’t wrong. (I'm not watching a ton of TV. I performed in a show. I’m meditating every day.)
It helps sometimes to know that I’m not alone in feeling this way. That the voice is just fear. Fear tries to protect us. What could be safer than staying home, warm and comfortable, under the weighted blanket?
But, the thing is, of course, this doesn’t really help.
Writing helps. Social media doesn’t.
Self care helps. Shaming myself for the three bags of celery rotting in my fridge doesn’t.
Keeping to a schedule helps. Over-scheduling myself doesn’t.
Today, I was feeling really burned out from a long work week, dipping into that familiar place — wanting to curl up, hibernate, and skip my plans to write and plan my website overhaul.
But then I read those not-so-old journal entries and thought, “Welp. I guess that’s my blog post for the day.” It got me off the couch and into the world.
Not gonna lie, though. I was kinda looking forward to binge-watching Russian Doll.
Anyone else playing Radio KFCKD on repeat? What helps you tune it out and tune back into the world? Let me know below in the comments or hit “subscribe” to leave me a message and sign up for my semi-monthly newsletter!
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